


The Perspective of Stars

by Xemichal



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Mass Effect
Genre: A few original characters - Freeform, And a happy ending, Anxiety, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Kent Parson/Jack Zimmermann, also a brief Johnson in the intro, also they're going to be VERY gay the lot of them, angst with fluff, brief discussion of Jack's overdose in an intermission chapter, but it's gonna be cute and gay so there's that, but oh god all the pining, i'm not planning to get super explicit with it either, lots of fluff, making out will be the most explicit this thing gets, so expect gay, the mass effect au nobody asked for but I'm giving anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-11 20:42:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10473999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xemichal/pseuds/Xemichal
Summary: Jack Zimmermann is a Commander in the Systems Alliance well on his way to being considered for the N7 Program and Spectre status. The new recruit on his ship, the SSV Samwell, may very well put his plans in jeopardy when he displays fear of combat situations. Eric Bittle learns from his Commander what it takes to face his fear, while teaching Jack a little something about facing his own fears. Eric and Jack expected a lot out of their tenure on the Samwell, but what they get will be entirely unexpected.NOTE: This fic is currently on haitus due to depression and attempting to find work. Apologies!!





	1. The SSV Samwell

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I'll have ever posted. Some friends finally convinced me to take the plunge. If you plan to follow this, bear with me. I have a busy schedule, but I'm hoping very much that I can stick with it and finish. I have a lot of ideas and plans for this, but I'm hoping to have a lot of fun with it as well. The chapters will likely be on the shorter side, but I'm hoping that this will help me to get it out a bit better. Happy reading!
> 
> You can find me as theicykey on Tumblr!

 

Prologue

 

            “So let me get this straight,” Commander Jack Zimmermann said, his left hand at his temple and his right arm on his desk. “You want to request a transfer.” Johnson had refused to say it outright, and as always was proving confusing to talk to.

            “Yes, sir,” Johnson said, “The plot is about to start up and I need to leave to allow it to happen.” He smiled at Jack as if he hadn’t just requested to leave the Commander’s service.    Jack sighed and looked out the window nearby. They were near Neptune now, and would touch down on Earth within the hour. “Are you unhappy with the Samwell?” Johnson shook his head. “The crew?” Again, Johnson shook his head. “Me?” Jack finally asked, grasping at what the problem could possibly be.

            Johnson’s brow furrowed. “Of course not, sir. You’re the best captain I’ve ever served under. I just need to leave so you have the opening.”

            Jack breathed in deeply, a headache beginning a languid gnarl at the front of his head. “Alright, Johnson. I’ll sign off on it. I just hope the Alliance can get us someone new while we’re in port.”

            “Don’t even worry about it, sir,” Johnson said, “You’re gonna love the guy they send in.”

 

Chapter 1

 

            Eric Bittle had never set foot off of Earth. He had been stuck on the ground ever since he was a baby. It was mostly because his mother had been scared to go off-world after having lived through the horrors of the Reaper War. They had planned to go on vacation to one of the human colonies outside of Sol when Eric was 12, but his mother had had a panic attack at the thought of having to getting on a ship. Eric loved his mother, but he didn’t want to stay cooped up in Georgia for the rest of his life.

            So his answer was to join the Systems Alliance. He was hopeful that it would be manly enough to satisfy his father while being a chance to see the stars. Eric had been in love with the idea of space since he was a child. After so many nights as a child on his back looking up at the stars from a ridge near the campgrounds his father used to take him to, he was ready to see them up close.

            The reality, however, was a bit nerve-wracking. He had just finished his basic training a few days ago, and now he was being shuffled onto a ship that needed a new cook. It would only be docked for a few days, so it was imperative he get there as soon as he could. The shuttle ride to the port had sent his anxiety through the roof. But he was also immensely excited.

            “First assignment?” A tall, short-haired woman said from across the aisle.

            Eric bit his lip. “Am I that obvious?”

            The woman laughed, “Your leg is jiggling so much I thought we might have hit a patch of turbulence.”

            Eric grabbed his leg to get it to stop. “Nervous energy,” he said, “It’ll be my first time in space.”

            “Well don’t worry about it too much,” she said, “You’re going to love it.”

            The pilot came over the intercom then. “Approaching Boston Memorial Spaceport,” he said.

            Eric got up to look out the window and was awestruck by the variety of ships in the port. “Wow,” he said under his breath, “I’ve never seen so many ships before.”

            The woman came and stood next to him. “Know which ship you’ll be on?” She asked.

            “The SSV Samwell,” he said.

            The woman looked at Eric, calculating. “Good ship,” she said, “I know the captain. He runs a tight ship, but he cares deeply for his crew.” She pointed out the window. “See that long, thin Alliance ship near the rear of the port? That’s her. Designed after a survey ship being sent to Andromeda for the Initiative.”

            Eric put a hand over his mouth, getting a little emotional over seeing his new home. “It looks beautiful,” he said. It was sleek, with soft lines and hard edges. It was black and white with red accents, Alliance colors. He could see dock workers loading cargo into it, likely preparing for several weeks in space. Eric turned to the woman. “I am so sorry,” he said, “Where are my manners. I’m Eric Bittle.”

            The woman smiled at him. “Georgia Martin,” she said, “You’ll have to tell Commander Zimmermann I said hello. And congrats on making Commander.”

            “Will do!” Eric said brightly. Though secretly he was a little frightened of speaking with his new captain.

            The shuttle landed shortly after that, the door sliding open mere moments after touching down. Eric stepped off gingerly, shouldering his duffel bag to get a better grip on it. He walked towards the back of the port towards his new home with a little hesitance, a little curiosity, and a spark of excitement.

 

*          *          *

 

            Eric had been expecting a few things from his first assignment. Being out in space, hopefully making a friend or two on the ship, being able to see some of the different galactic species. What he hadn’t been expecting was the crew to be standing outside the ship, waiting for him.

            “Eric Bittle?” The tall man at the front of the group said, his icy blue eyes piercing right through Eric. He assumed that the man was the captain, given his stoic demeanor. He was wearing soft Alliance standard-issue casual wear, which struck Eric as odd given the man’s demeanor. Eric felt like the man should be in armor for as stiff as he looked.

            “Yes, sir,” Eric said, saluting. He could sense a little trepidation in his voice, and he prayed that the Commander hadn’t noticed.

            The man looked Eric up and down with a calculating, clinical gaze. “One of the crew will show you to the crew quarters where you may store your things. Then I expect you to meet with our quartermaster and look over the food manifests for the ship and make any requests for additional provisions, within reason, while we’re in port. Understood?”

            “Understood,” Eric said. He paused for half a beat before adding a squeaked, “Sir.” He winced at his misstep, and hoped that the Commander would be merciful.

            Jack’s mouth quirked into the hint of a smile. “Good,” he said. He turned to the rest of the crew. “Now I’m off to get our next assignment. Shore leave is in effect until Monday. The ship leaves at 0800 Monday morning. Knight, show Bittle the ship. Duan, you and Bittle will be allowed leave after his initial duties are done. Understood?” The gathered group said, “Yes, sir” before Jack walked briskly away.

            The crew descended on Bitty as soon as Jack began walking. They all greeted him, welcomed him, and patted him on the back and shoulder. They all told him their names, but he couldn’t keep track. He figured he’d get them all eventually, but the anxiety over not knowing their names gnawed at him. The crew trickled out towards the city until it was just Eric and two other people standing underneath the Samwell. The small Asian woman said something to the mustachioed man behind a hand, to which he chuckled. She smirked and walked up the ramp and disappeared into the ship.

            “Don’t worry, bruh,” the man said, “We are gonna get you well and acquainted with this old girl.”  Eric looked up at the man, who was a bit taller than him, but not nearly as tall as the captain. He held out his hand. “Name’s Shitty,” he said, “Shitty Knight.”

            Eric’s eyes grew wide. “Uh, Eric,” he said, taking Shitty’s hand, “Is that-?”

            “A nickname, yes,” Shitty said, chuckling a bit. “The fuck kind of parent would name their kid Shitty?” Eric opened his mouth as if to answer, but Shitty stuck his thumb out towards the ship. “Let’s go. We got a whole ship to cover.”

 

*          *          *

 

            Eric’s mind was reeling by the end of the tour. They had gone up into the cargo bay at first, which housed numerous supply containers as well as a vehicle. The Asian woman, who Eric learned was called Lardo, another nickname, stood off to the side fiddling with a datapad near some of the stacked containers. There were two rooms just off the cargo bay at the back. One was set up as a sort of crew lounge, the other as the quartermaster’s room. “Lardo insisted on having her own space to work,” Shitty had said.

            Further towards the front were the crew quarters, where Eric stowed his things, the med bay, the captain’s cabin, and the galley, which had an impressive kitchen and comfortably small dining area for such a small ship. They had backtracked to the cargo bay to take a lift up to the second floor, where Shitty showed Eric engineering and the Drive Core before getting to the best part. The door between the cargo bay’s second floor and the rest of the ship had opened to reveal a large open space with a holographic display over a round console showing the Earth. Lots of natural light passed through the heavily windowed room. “We call this area Tactics,” Shitty had said. Just to the left and right of the long walkway above the quarters, med bay, and galley hallway were the Tech and Bio Labs. Beside each of those was a ramp leading up to the Meeting Room. “There’s vidcon up here, and Jack lets us call home every once in a while,” Shitty had said, “You have to set it up in advance, though. E-mail Jack and set it up with me. Make sure your folks are able to get to a vidcon themselves.”

            The last stop of the tour was the bridge, which was impressive. There were escape pods through a door to the right and the airlock and gear lockers to the left. There were two seats between the Galaxy Map. One for the communications officer to do work, the other for the pilot. Eric was impressed at the density of the ship, as well as the gorgeous and flowing layout. There were even ladders from the bridge walkway to get down to the crew area.

            “The ship is beautiful,” was all Eric could say.

            “Damn right,” Shitty said, a grin on his face. “She’s a fuckin’ beaut.” He looked at Eric for a minute, eyes narrowing. Eric shifted under his gaze.

            “Y’know,” Shitty said, “You are one itty bitty guy.” His mustache quirked up as he thought before his entire face burst into excitement. “Bitty!”

            “Uhh,” Eric said, unsure of what to make of the outburst.

            Shitty gestured wildly with his hands. “Your name!” He said, as if it would explain everything. When Eric’s brow was still furrowed after the elaboration, Shitty just clapped him on the shoulder. “Just get back to Lardo so we can all go get food, Bitty,” he said.

            Eric opened his mouth to protest the nickname, but closed it quickly. He kind of liked it, if he was being honest with himself. “Sure thing, Shitty,” he said.

 

*          *          *

 

            The food stores on the ship turned out to be appalling. As Eric worked through them with Lardo, he began to feel a headache coming on. “What do you _mean_ there’s fifteen bottles of sriracha sauce under the silverware drawer?” Eric asked incredulously, “Who even has _use_ for that much sriracha?”

            “Dunno, man,” Lardo said, still fiddling with the datapad containing the ship’s manifest. “I think Holster had a craving the last time we were on Earth.”

            Bitty rubbed a hand on his temples. “Okay,” he said, letting out a huff of air, “I think I’ve fixed the supply requisition for what I’ll need until the next time we’re in port. Assuming we’re not out there for more than three months.”

            Lardo set the datapad down and brought up the omnitool holographic interface on her left forearm. She typed away for a few seconds, probably finalizing the new order for the food to be delivered in the morning. She made a few final keystrokes before waving the display away. “All done,” she said, “Let’s go before Shits complains the whole way to the restaurant.”

            Eric nodded with a smile. Lardo seemed nice, and so did Shitty for that matter. He was hopeful that lunch would ensure him at least two friends on his new ship.

 


	2. The Commander

             Jack sat impatiently in the waiting room of the port’s Alliance Base. Every spaceport had at least a small Alliance presence, if only to allow for commands to be relayed securely. Jack was waiting for the encrypted vidcon to be free. He preferred to come to the Alliance Bases when he could for receiving orders because it got him out of the ship. But it also messed with his anxiety because he often had to wait, whereas on the ship the vidcon was nearly always free for him. He tried to tamp down on the nerves blooming in his chest by closing his eyes and breathing. He always got nervous before getting new orders. He had ever since becoming a captain. Now that he was a commander, the pressure was laying into him more and more with each day. He could only imagine what other people were saying. Would he be as good a commander as his father had been? Would he fail completely, as he had when he first joined the Alliance? Would he be able to surpass his father’s shadow? Would he-

            He shifted, putting his head down into his hands, his elbows balanced on his thighs. One of his legs started bouncing and he groaned. He got up, hoping some walking would alleviate some of his nerves. It didn’t, but it was something to do.

            “Commander Zimmermann?” The receptionist asked, his eyes kind as he watched Jack pace. “The vidcon is free if you’d like to head back.”

            Jack nodded. “Thank you,” he said. He speed-walked past the reception desk, but stalled before the door. He took a deep breath before using his omnitool to show his credentials and open the door. The room might as well have been a storage closet for how small it was, but the vidcon terminal in the center was the only thing in the room besides some ferns and a painting on the wall, making it seem bigger. He strode up to the device and pressed some buttons. When he found the right person to call, his finger lingered next to the call button. His mind started hissing at him, throwing doubt into his whirling thoughts. He clenched his eyes shut and pressed the button.

            When he opened them, a tall man with glasses and cropped short hair stood beyond the device, his holographic form shimmering, buzzing, and blue-tinged. “Admiral Hall, sir,” Jack said, saluting.

            Hall put his hand up. “At ease, Commander,” he said. He watched Jack carefully. “The Samwell did a fine job with those smugglers on Eden Prime. You got in and dealt with them without giving them a chance to escape. However...” Jack flinched, unable to meet the admiral's eyes. “There was a bit of property damage. The homes near the warehouse you raided received light gunfire. Nobody was harmed, but I will ask you to be more careful next time with the direction you approach from.”

            Jack nodded. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”

            Hall nodded back. “Good,” he said, “That said, though. Your next assignment will be to look into some rumored gang activity on Anhur. The rumor suggests humans, but some could be batarian, in which case use caution. Don’t want to give the batarians reason to hate us more than they already do.”

            “Understood,” Jack said, “I will investigate the rumors and report back before making a move.”

            “I would recommend investigating on Omega first. Don’t get yourself killed while you’re there, though. Would hate to lose my best commander.” Hall smiled.

            Jack returned the gesture. “Yes, sir,” he said, “I’ll report as soon as we’re done on Omega.”

            The admiral nodded before cutting off the transmission. Jack relaxed as soon as the last speck of hologram faded. He wasn’t looking forward to being on Omega again, but at least he’d be occupied for a while. He left the Alliance Base with a smile as he breathed in the fresh Earth air.

 

*          *          *

 

            Jack had planned to go find something to eat before heading back to the ship, but he hadn’t planned on running into Shitty, Lardo, and the new recruit. It shouldn’t have been surprising. Shitty and Lardo had introduced him to this place a couple years previously, and they came here together every time they were in port. It was a cute little pizzeria, and they preferred coming here because it was small, local, close to the port, and had pizza. “Nobody out there does pizza like they do it on Earth,” Shitty had once said. He was right, so nobody complained when he insisted on getting it while they were on Earth.

            He started towards them. He knew it would be a little awkward with the new guy there, but he wanted to spend some time with his friends. Before anyone saw him, though, the new guy laughed. The sound sent a thrill through Jack. He watched as Bittle’s eyes crinkled and the long part of his undercut-styled blond hair blew in the wind. Jack felt warm in the chilly fall breeze. He wanted to go back to the ship then, but Bittle noticed him and smiled. Jack approached the table awkwardly. He noticed that the pizza was already there, his usual order included.

            “Hey guys,” he said, sitting down by Shitty, “Did you order for me?”

            Shitty clapped him on the back. “You even have to fuckin’ ask, bruh?”

            Jack grinned. Shitty had been his best friend for nearly two years, and in that time they had become as close as brothers. He was incredibly thankful to have such companionship on the ship. It kept him sane. “Well I can’t be sure you didn’t just order two pizzas for yourself, or if you were going to share,” Jack teased.

            “I considered it,” Shitty conceded, “But I can’t let that beaut of an ass losin’ any of its mass because of _my_ greed.” Shitty poked Jack in the side, which tickled. Jack laughed at the good-natured joking, but saw that Bittle had a strange look in his eyes.

            “Don’t worry, Bitty,” Lardo said, “This is how they always act. Shitty’s not being an actual asshole.” Bittle relaxed a bit, but kept a wary eye trained on Jack.

            “Bitty?” Jack asked, to keep the conversation going. His heart hammered a bit at addressing Bittle directly.

            Bittle smiled shyly. “Shitty decided to give me a nickname,” he said, “I suppose it’s already stickin’.” His soft southern drawl made Jack’s heart flutter. He stamped it down with a frown. His anxiety flared to life.

            He swallowed a bite of pizza, avoiding Bittle’s eyes. “Oh,” was all he said. He couldn’t trust himself to say more. The conversation kept flowing around him, and Jack contributed a few more times. But he kept quiet. He snuck a peak at Bittle a few more times, and Bittle noticed every once and a while. Every time, Bittle’s face fell under Jack’s icy stare. Jack excused himself after finishing a couple of slices, hoping to avoid walking back to the ship with Bittle.

            When he finally reached his cabin, he threw himself backwards onto his bed. The light streaming into the room filtered through his eyelids, so he placed his arm over them. He couldn’t find the new recruit attractive. He just couldn’t. Not when he had tried so hard to avoid this sort of thing happening again. Not when he was so close to his goal. Not when he had so much to live up to.

            He removed his arm from over his face and looked up at the ceiling of his cabin. He resolved to be kind to Bittle, but to keep him at a distance. He couldn’t afford to get close. He couldn’t let himself fall. Not again.

 

*          *          *

 

            As soon as Jack had left, Eric had felt a rush of relief. The Commander had been glaring at him regularly through the meal, and it felt horrible. How could his new commander hate him so much without even knowing him?

            The change in demeanor must have been evident, because Lardo pounced. “Are you okay, Bits?” she asked.

            Eric waved it off. “Of course,” he said, “Just a little anxiety is all.”

            “Anxiety is nothing to wave off, bruh,” Shitty said, gesturing with a slice of pizza in his hand, “If somethin’s botherin’ you, don’t be afraid to voice it. Mental health is important.”

            Eric thought for a moment. Shitty had a point, and it’s not like it was something they wouldn’t understand. Besides, the captain’s treatment of him affected them all. “Well,” he said finally, “I’m afraid the Commander doesn’t like me much.” He bit his lip. “I don’t know why that’d be. We only just met.”

            Lardo took a bite of pizza thoughtfully. “I don’t think Jack hates you, Bits,” she said, “You’re just new.”

            “He probably doesn’t know what to make of you yet,” Shitty added, “Jack absolutely hates change. And Johnson leaving is the first time the crew has changed in, what.” He looked at Lardo. “A year and a half?”

            “Right,” Lardo said, “When Tater joined.” She looked over at Bitty. “He’s our pilot,” she added.

            “Best there is,” Shitty enthused, “That glorious Russian hunk of man once got us through a debris field from an exploded asari dreadnaught so we could pick up intel they’d gathered about an attack on a human colony.”

            Shitty and Lardo continued with further stories about Tater’s piloting skills, but Eric was only half listening. He couldn’t shake the feeling that being the new guy wasn’t the only reason Jack had been glaring at him. He didn’t know what, but he could feel that he wasn’t getting something about his handsome new captain.

            Eric stalled for a moment, head swimming. Handsome? Where the hell had that come from? He shook his head, trying to get past the block. The thought had been accurate, yes, but it really wasn’t something he should be thinking about his commanding officer. No matter how tall and beefy, no matter how monumental the ass, no matter how gorgeous the light blue eyes, no matter-

            He shook his head, harder. He had to stop this train of thought before it went any further. He silently admonished himself for entertaining it in the first place. Besides, he couldn’t go down that road again. As Shitty and Lardo talked around him, he mentally locked away any attraction that he might have had for Jack. He only hoped the box would stay locked.

 

*          *          *

 

            When they had all finished lunch, Eric was still a bundle of nerves. He excused himself from Shitty and Lardo to try and find a store. Eric always baked when he was stressed, but he knew he would need to buy the supplies for it. He had some credits saved for just such occasions, a gift from his mama. He found a store nearby that carried everything he would need. Luckily, when he had checked the contents of the kitchen, he had found pie tins. When he had asked Lardo about it, she had shrugged and said, “Johnson bought them the last time we were in port. Said they’d be needed soon, but never touched them before he left.”

            Eric made it back to the ship about half an hour later with a few bags of supplies. The baking would help his mood considerably, but he also silently hoped it would bring him favor with the crew. He hoped Jack, at the very least, would stop glaring at him long enough to enjoy a slice. He got to work, mindlessly throwing together and rolling out the dough. He prepped apple filling as well as a blueberry and chocolate cream. You could never go wrong with fruit and chocolate. He only hoped it would be enough for the crew. He knew his pies tended to disappear faster than they appeared, so it would be close. He’d have to cut a slice of the apple beforehand for Jack. He wanted to ensure that the person who seemed to like him least got the best of his pies.

            “Why does the ship smell like a bakery?” Jack said, his soft Canadian accent lilting from the hallway. The door slid open to reveal the bulky captain, his face set in a scowl. “Bittle? Are you baking?”

            “Yes, sir,” Eric said, blushing, “I bake when I’m nervous. And I figured port would be the easiest place to do it. Since I could get the fresh ingredients easily.” He fiddled with his shirt. “Is that alright?”

            Jack looked at Eric with an intense stare. “That’s not in the diet plan for Alliance soldiers,” he said.

            Eric bit his lip. “I know,” he said, “I just thought they’d appreciate a treat.” He shifted. “I thought it’d be nice.”

            Jack looked to the oven, where the apple was cooling on top and the blueberry was baking inside. “I suppose so,” he grumbled, “But it can’t happen every time we’re in port.”

            “Of course not, sir,” Eric said. The timer buzzed, so Eric stooped to grab the blueberry. When he set it down, Jack was standing over him. He started. “Lord!” he said, “You scared me!”

            Jack stepped back, hands raised. “Sorry,” he said. He put his hands down. “Is that apple?”

            Eric looked over at the pies. “There’s an apple, a blueberry, and a chocolate cream,” he said, “Would you like a slice?”

            Jack nodded. “Apple, please,” he said, kinder than he’d been all day. Eric considered it a success.

            “When it cools,” Eric said, “I’ll bring a slice to your cabin.”

            Jack smiled softly. “Thank you,” he said. He turned to go, but paused before the door. “Bittle?” he said, turning slightly.

            “Hmm?” Eric responded, already continuing his work with the pies. He looked up at Jack.

            Jack looked him in the eye. “I never said before,” he said, “But welcome to the Samwell.” He smiled softly again before leaving and turning into his cabin right beside the galley. Eric caught his gaze as he looked back, smiling before both doors closed.

 

*          *          *

 

            Jack was working at his desk, the door to his right, when a soft knock sounded on the door with a metallic twang. He looked up. He had nearly forgotten that Bittle was supposed to bring him pie. “Come in,” he said, clearing his throat a bit when it sounded hoarse to his own ears.

            Bittle appeared as the door slid from the middle to both sides of the doorway. He stepped in, peering into the room cautiously. He looked around. Jack watched his gaze as it moved from his closet to the left of the door, his bed beside that on the curved wall of windows at the front of the ship, his personal vidcon in the center, his couches and coffee table to the right of that, and finally settling at his desk to the right of the doorway. He smiled when he saw Jack. “Hey there, captain,” he said. He held up a food tray with a slice of gooey pie. “As promised.” He walked over and set the pie down beside Jack’s computer terminal.

            “Thanks,” Jack said, allowing a smile to grace his lips. Bittle seemed to be hovering, expectant. Obligingly, Jack picked up the fork on the tray and scooped a slice of pie into his mouth. His involuntary response to the delightful wave of pleasure that was Bittle’s pie was a groan he had only heard erupt from his mouth with his last boyfriend. He tamped down the thought as it came, but tried to smile appreciatively. “That was amazing, Bittle,” he said.

            Bittle’s face erupted into a smirk, as if he had expected that sort of response. “Don’t mention it,” he said, turning to leave. He paused in the doorway. “Oh, and Commander?”

            Jack turned, fork in his mouth. Bittle still looked a little smug. “Hm?” he said, mouth full. He didn’t dare to swallow or say anything with his mouth full.

            “Enjoy the pie,” he said, leaving.

            Jack swallowed his bite and chuckled. He couldn’t help but smile at the lingering scent of apple and cinnamon as he finished his pie. It would be a pleasant smell to fall asleep to.  


	3. Leaving Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a bit longer to get this chapter done than I would have liked, but I've spent the last couple days moving to a new place so that kind of took precedence. I would like to start updating this thing once a week, hopefully during the weekend, but I can't promise that because I'm going to have to do some stuff for my thesis this quarter and it's sounding so far like the expectations for getting stuff done is going to be an absolute nightmare. I'm committed to this thing now, though, so bear with me. Thank you all for your patience and I hope you enjoy!  
> If you want, you can talk to me on tumblr at theicykey. :D

            Shortly after giving Jack his pie, Shitty stumbled into the kitchen. “Food?” he said. Eric nodded, silently placing a slice of blueberry on a tray and setting it on the table. Shitty plopped down and immediately brought a bite to his mouth. “What the fuck, Bits?” Shitty said, “This is literal sex in my mouth.” He moaned as he took another bite. “If you’d have told me we’d be intimate later,” he said, mouth full, “I’d have worn my sexy underwear.”

            Eric rolled his eyes. “Just eat the pie, Shitty,” he said. He was always pleased with the reactions to his cooking, even if he knew what they’d be ahead of time. It was still nice to get that affirmation. “If you’re lucky, I’ll cook you dinner next time.”

            Shitty choked on his bite a bit. He punched his fist into his chest, swallowed firmly, and said, “Are you _chirpin’_ me, Bits?” Eric’s face must have revealed his confusion at the word, because Shitty waved his free hand. “Teasing,” he explained, “Jack brought it with him to the ship. Grew up playing hockey.” He took another thoughtful bite, watching Eric. “You are _full_ of surprises, my man.”

            Eric smiled sweetly. “Why,” he said, laying the accent on thick, “What _ever_ do you mean, Mr. Knight?” He batted his eyelashes several times. “I am just a _sweet_ southern gentleman. How could you _ever_ accuse me of such a thing?” He grinned widely, unable to keep a straight face any longer.

            Shitty could only laugh. “You, my friend,” he said, “Better watch it. Or Ransom and Holster will chirp you into the _ground_.” As if to prove his point, he brought his fork down and stabbed the last piece of pie. He chewed it with a side-eyed grin. He grabbed his tray, stood up, and walked over to Eric. “Please, sir,” he said in the cheesiest British accent Eric had ever heard, prompting him to giggle, “Can I have s’more?”

            “S’mores?” Eric chirped, “I’m afraid you’ll have to go campin’ for that. And we are fresh out of wilderness around here.” He plated another slice of pie for Shitty anyway, chocolate cream this time. Shitty sat down and started fiddling with his omnitool for a minute before getting to work on his second slice.

            Eric was content washing dishes by hand as Shitty finished his pie and fiddled with his omnitool, most likely browsing the extranet. The door slid open about five minutes later to Lardo and a tall, broad man. The man’s eyes glinted at the sight of the new recruit. “New guy!” he said loudly, a thick Russian accent tinting his speech, “Bittle, yes?”

            “Call him Bitty,” Shitty said, without looking up.

            Eric rolled his eyes and smiled kindly at the, frankly, huge man before him. “Eric,” he said, holding out his hand, “Or Bitty, I suppose.”

            The man took his hand gingerly, hands gentler than Eric had been expecting. “Alexei Mashkov,” the man said, “But you can call me Tater.” He smiled widely, teeth flashing in the artificial light. “Lardo said that there was pie?” he asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice.

            Eric chuckled. “Apple, blueberry, or chocolate cream,” he said.

            Tater’s grin widened. “Blueberry,” he said, “Jack would kill me if I didn’t save the apple for him.”

            “I already gave him a piece,” Eric said, turning to plate the pie for Tater, “Lardo?”

            “Apple,” she said, shooting Tater a look, “And plate another for Jack, he definitely will want more.” She had a wicked gleam in her eyes as Eric handed her the two trays. She stepped out and into Jack’s cabin.

            Shitty looked from the door to Eric before getting up. He handed his dirty tray to Eric. “Thanks for the pie, Bits,” he says, following Lardo into the captain’s cabin.

            Tater sat and ate his pie, eliciting the same response as Shitty and Jack. Eric sat down at the other end of the table, unsure of what to do. “So-“ he began before being cut off by the door.

            Two tall men walked in, side by side. One had blond hair and blue eyes, the other was Black with dark hair and brown eyes. “Hey guys,” the blond one said, “Shitty said there was pie?”

            Bitty bolted up. “Yes!” he said, “Of course! What do y’all want? And can you remind me of your names?”

            “Holster,” the blond one said, “And I’ll have chocolate.”

            “Apple for me,” the other said, “I’m Ransom.”

            Eric plated the pies and handed them off. “Nice to officially meet you two,” he said. The only response was two groans of pleasure. Eric smirked. “Sounds like you’re enjoyin’ my pie at least.”

            “S’ good,” Holster said. Ransom only nodded enthusiastically.

            “Your pie,” Tater said, “is like...” He paused. Then he said something that Eric didn’t understand.

            “Sorry,” Eric said, “Translator must have glitched. What was that?”

            “He said sex, Bits,” Ransom said, “Which I completely agree with, by the way.” Holster nodded as he took another bite.

            Eric rolled his eyes. “Lord,” he said, “That nickname is really gonna stick, huh?”

            “You can’t escape Shitty’s nicknames,” Holster said.

            “Apparently not,” Eric muttered before sitting down.

 

*          *          *

 

            Nobody else came back to the ship that night. “Chowder, Nursey, and Dex won’t come back ‘til the ship’s about the leave,” Shitty said. He and Eric were sitting in the lounge just off the cargo bay. Shitty was sitting on a disgusting green couch and Eric, refusing to sit on the thing, had pulled up a chair from the card table near the window showing the Drive Core. “Chowder’s girlfriend lives here, and the other two like to get a hotel room.”

            “Oh,” Eric said, “Well I’m glad they can enjoy their shore leave, then.” Eric relaxed a bit. Knowing he wouldn’t be the only non-straight person on the ship helped his anxiety immensely. Humanity had made huge strides in the past few centuries, and sexuality tended to be a non-issue. But the South still had some remnants of the early 21st century in places. He had grown up being different in a small town surrounded by athletes. It wasn’t that he was bullied, but there had been a few incidents he tried not to think about. That’s not to say that Eric was worried his crew-mates would be anything like the athletes he went to school with, but...

            Well, incidents like that tended to color all of your interactions with similar types of people.

            “You okay?” Shitty asked, watching him carefully, “You seemed to leave the room for a minute.”

            “Oh!” Eric said, coming back, “I’m fine! Just thinkin’ is all.” He paused, pursing his lips. “The crew I’ve met so far seem nice.”

            Shitty softened. “Yeah,” he said, “They’re the best.” They were silent for a minute before Shitty continued. “You worried about bein’ the new guy, Bits?”

            Eric bit his lip. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, quirking his eyebrow on the last word.

            Shitty nodded. “Okay,” he said, “That’s completely understandable.” He shifted. “I can’t speak for Tater, Rans, and Holster,” he continued, “But Lardo and I have already made plans for adoption. Joint custody, she gets you every second and fourth week.”

            Eric rolled his eyes, a grin on his face. “Thanks, Shitty,” he said.

            Shitty smiled. “Course, Bits.”

 

*          *          *

 

            The next morning, Eric was going to make pancakes. He had grabbed the ingredients with the pie ingredients the day before at the store, fully intending to make a special breakfast in preparation for his first time in space. When the door opened into the galley, two people were already sitting at the table, drinking coffee and scrolling through the news on their omnitools. One was ginger, the other had dark skin, hair, and eyes. The ginger one looked up as Eric entered. “You must be Bitty,” he said, “I’m Dex, and this is Nursey.”

            “Sup,” Nursey said without looking up.

            Eric smiled at the duo. “Nice to meet you both,” he said, “I’m assuming Chowder is still out?”

            “Yeah,” Nursey said, “He stays with Farmer until the very last minute. I would have liked to stay out until we left, too.” He looked at Dex with a glare. “But someone was paranoid about being late.”

            “I wanted to make sure we were back in time,” Dex said, “So sue me.”

            Nursey closed out of whatever he had been doing on his omnitool. “Babe, you need to chill sometimes,” he said, “Jack wouldn’t have left without us.”

            “Okay you did _not_ just ‘chill’ me,” Dex said incredulously, “Are we seriously doing that again?”

            The two continued to bicker as Eric prepped the pancake batter. He didn’t want to get in the middle of things, but the argument was making him anxious. Instead of saying anything, Eric turned on the small speaker he had brought in the night before and synced it to his omnitool. Music began playing, and Nursey and Dex ceased their bickering momentarily.

            “Bits?” Dex said, “What is this?”

            “Beyoncé,” Eric said, “She’s an artist from the early 21st century. I found her on some classics station one time and fell in love.”

            Dex just nodded. Nursey looked thoughtful. “I like it,” he said. He didn’t elaborate, but he seemed to be listening and enjoying the rhythm. “What’s this called?”

            “Halo,” Eric said. He continued his work on the pancakes. Just as he was starting to mix, Shitty and Lardo came in. Shitty went to grab coffee as Lardo took a seat across from Nursey.

            The pancakes were ready before Ransom and Holster walked in, Tater in tow. “Are those pancakes I smell?” Holster said, “Because I am fucking _starving._ ”

            Eric only slapped the pancakes that were ready onto a tray, in lieu of a platter, and set it on the table. Shitty had put out the butter, syrup, and trays for him, so the table attacked the food. Eric smiled as he continued to make more. He always loved feeding people. It made him feel like he was helping make people happy. It always relaxed him in a way nothing else did.

            “Are those pancakes?” Jack said as soon as the door opened for him. “I came in from my run and I could smell them from across the ship.” He was a little sweaty, in full workout gear, but plopped next to Shitty anyway. “Thanks, Bittle,” he said.

            Eric only beamed as he surveyed the table before him. Nearly the whole table was packed with bodies. He could see space for maybe one or two more, if they packed. Given that the only people missing from the table were Chowder and himself, he realized that they could have full crew dinners. The thought made him feel lighter than he had since getting this assignment. He liked the crew, he could feed them all at once, and he could see himself becoming friends with some of them at the very least. He was so giddy and full of thoughts that he didn’t even realize he had been addressed.

            “Bitty?” Shitty said, eyebrows raised, expectant and a little worried.

            “Hm?” Eric responded, breaking himself out of his reverie.

            “I asked if you wanted to sit down,” he said, “So you could eat with the rest of us.”

            Eric hadn’t even realized that he’d gone through the last of his batter and was merely staring at the scene before him. A blush crept onto his face. “Oh,” he said finally, “Sure.” He sat silently and plated himself some food. The conversation continued around him, but he wasn’t sure what it was about. He ate silently as he watched the people around him talk animatedly. He noticed Jack at one point staring at him, his brow furrowed. Bitty could only look away quickly when he noticed, but snuck a glance shortly after. Jack was no longer looking at him, but his face was stony as he listened to Shitty talk.

            What was _his_ deal?

 

*          *          *

 

            Chowder finally arrived about five minutes before Jack had said to be back. His eyebrows were furrowed with worry as he walked past Eric in the cargo bay. “Hello!” Eric called as soon as he realized who the Asian man was.

            Chowder turned as soon as he heard Eric’s voice. “Oh! Hi!” he said, “I’m so sorry, but I can’t stay and chat quite yet. Jack should know I’m back, and I’m really hoping he’s not mad at me for being so late. I mean, I know he’s not going to be mad because of that one time when I came back an hour late but they stayed for me. Jack’s super nice and I’m not worried, but he can be mad without being mad I guess? Like, I don’t think he’ll be upset, but he’ll probably be irritated at the very least and-“

            “Chowder,” Jack said, emerging from the quartermaster’s quarters, “It’s fine. You aren’t even late.” He was smiling, his eyes soft. “Just go tell Tater that you’re here so we can get going.”

            Chowder stood up straight. “Yes, sir!” he said, saluting. He turned and sped towards the bridge.

            “Come on,” Jack said to Eric, “There’s an amazing view from the Meeting Room.”

            Eric could only nod as they walked together. Jack seemed kind, if a little stiff. He could tell that Jack would take some time to be completely comfortable with him, but he was trying. As he walked a few paces behind Jack, his shorter legs not quite keeping up with Jack’s long ones, he couldn’t help but stare at Jack’s broad shoulders and thick thighs. Alliance casual wear was quite form-fitting, and Eric was both incredibly thankful as a gay man, but also incredibly uncomfortable. He had had enough trouble keeping his eyes off the men in basic training, and they hadn’t been nearly as broad and defined. He breathed through his mouth, trying to calm himself. Why did he have to be _so_ goddamn gay?

           

*          *          *

 

            This was a terrible idea and Jack had no idea why he always did this to himself. He had invited Eric to the Meeting Room because of the fact that his files said he had never left Earth. Jack knew how magical the experience could be, so he wanted Eric to have a good view. Nobody could tell him he wasn’t trying with the new crew member, and he was determined to be a good captain even if he wasn’t exactly comfortable with the new man yet.

            He hadn’t counted on Eric being an absolute ball of energy in the anticipation of take-off. As soon as the engines started, Eric was thrumming in anticipation. He was bouncing up and down a little bit on the balls of his feet. His eyes darted all over as they rose from the ground.

            They quickly left Earth’s atmosphere then, the bright blue changing gradually to dull black framed with countless stars. Eric’s face was plastered with a wide grin, his eyes twinkling. As they passed the moon, Eric looked back towards Earth. He paused, the energy leaving him for a moment as the planet began to loom in the distance, shrinking gradually. He raised a hand to his chest, fist balled, and the other he placed over his mouth. He sobbed quietly as the little blue dot retreated.

            Jack could only watch, knowing full well the range of emotion that Eric was feeling. He had had the same reaction when he had first left the Earth at the age of seven. He didn’t know what to do, so he just watched.

            Eric finally turned to Jack a few minutes later. “Jack,” he said, eyes still shining with liquid and starlight, “It’s beautiful.”

            Jack smiled warmly, he hoped. “It is,” he said, “It never gets old, either.”

            “I can’t imagine it would,” he said, looking towards the front of the ship, “Are we going to hit the Mass Relay soon?”

            Jack ushers them towards the part of the Meeting Room looking over Tactics, facing the direction they’d approach Pluto from. “We should,” he said, “First we’ll be going to Omega, a space station built inside of an asteroid. It’s infamous as a low-life hangout, so we should be able to get information there for our mission.”

            Eric nodded. “Are we going to be staying long?”

            “Hopefully not,” Jack said, “But you never know what information will turn up and when.” He fidgeted as Pluto came into view. “Omega is notorious for misinformation about these things. So we’ll want to at least triple check our info before acting.”

            “Sounds like we’ll be there a few days at least, then,” Eric said, “Maybe I’ll be able to come with you and check it out.”

            Jack smiled. “Maybe,” he said, “But you should bring your gun with you if you leave the ship.”

            Eric laughed. It made Jack’s heart flutter. “That bad, huh?” he said.

            Jack could only smile in response. They both turned as a bright blue light filled the room. The Mass Relay stood before them. Other ships were ahead of them in the queue, so it gave them a moment to observe. Jack never took much note of them anymore, but he tried to see what Eric must be seeing.

            It was an immense metallic space structure, a long sword aimed at the stars. Towards the back were rings encircling a glowing blue mass of Element Zero, creating an immense Mass Effect field. The field was like a gem studded into the guard of a sword, with twin tips stretching away from it, two long pieces of metal with a space between. It was like a cross between a blade and a gun, firing ships wildly into the vast starry abyss.

            The two of them watched as ships sent their intended destination and exact mass of the ship to the strange structure before the twin rings circled the blue glow wildly and launched the waiting ship. The Element Zero, Jack knew, had the power to alter the mass objects within the Mass Effect fields to basically nothing, allowing the instantaneous jumps between Mass Relays that made galactic travel so easy. A few of the Relays on the outer edges of the galaxy were still being repaired, still damaged from the Reaper War, but much of the Relay network was now repaired. It was a hell of a lot better than the simple FTL travel that had been required shortly after the end of the war. Jack’s father still told him stories about the struggles after the Relays were damaged. So much of the damage was even now, several decades later, still being dealt with.

            “I wonder what it’ll be like on the other side,” Eric said, breaking Jack out of his thoughts.

            Jack thought for a moment before responding. “I guess you’ll be able to see for yourself now.”

            Eric turned his attention to Jack as the Samwell pulled up closer to the Relay, preparing for the jump. The both of them were bathed in a bright blue light, other colors muted. “I guess I will,” he said as they left Sol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the only thing I wanna say is I LOVE Tater's canon broken English. But given the fact they have super advanced translators in Mass effect that do alien languages, I felt like Tater had to have perfect English too. Any suggestions for making his dialogue more... him would be welcome. Because aside from his speech pattern, I'm at a loss.


	4. Omega

            They had pulled into Omega Station shortly after finishing the Mass Relay jump. Eric had marveled at the structure, a huge mass of steel and glass weaved into and sticking out of a large asteroid. They had docked, but Eric had been forbidden from leaving the ship. “We need to lay low while we gather some preliminary information,” Jack had said, “Holster and I will be the only ones off the ship until I say otherwise. That means _you_ Tater.” Jack had looked pointedly at the large Russian, who had looked dejected.

            “Yes, Commander,” he had said. Eric’s translator had then glitched, and a single word of Russian had passed Tater’s lips. Everyone had seemed just as confused as Eric, fiddling with their omnitools. Jack had just rolled his eyes and left the meeting room, towards the airlock.

            Holster had paused before following, eyes locking on Ransom, who had been concentrated on his omnitool. Holster had sighed before lifting himself out of his chair at the table and trudging down the ramp out of the meeting area.

            Eric now, four hours later, found himself laying in his bunk and staring at the ceiling above him. Chowder prattled about his girlfriend as he spun in an office chair from the lounge, which Eric had been told that Shitty had bought for this very reason. “She’s really really great, Bitty,” he said, “You’d really like her I think. She’s always indulging me when I get really excited about xenobiology and-“ He cut himself off, stopping himself. “Are you okay?”

            Eric turned his head to the side to face him. He hadn’t realized that he had been zoning out. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m alright. Just-“ He scrunched his brow. “I don’t know. I think I’m just still taking it all in? Earlier today we were on Earth. And now we’re millions of lightyears away. It’s just a lot.” He bit his lip. “And I’m a little worried about Jack.” Chowder raised an eyebrow. “And Holster!” he amended quickly.

            Chowder’s mouth quirked a tiny bit. “Don’t worry about them,” he said, “They’ve been doing this a long time. Longer than me, even.” He spun himself once on the chair thoughtfully. “As for the other thing,” he continued, “It may be a bit odd to think about, but don’t you think it’s kind of exciting, too?”

            “Oh, well sure!” Eric said. He was excited to see new places, meet new people, try new foods. “It’ll probably just take me a couple days to adjust.”

            “Trust me,” Chowder said, “When you meet your first aliens, you’ll think it’s all worth it.” He tipped his head to the side. “Unless you’ve already met some on Earth? I know it’s unusual for people from small towns to come across visitors from off-world. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen! I know a few asari have immigrated to Earth in the past few years. I just-“

            “Chowder,” Eric interrupts him. He knew Chowder could go on for hours at this rate. He tended to babble when he was worried he had said the wrong thing or if he was excited about something, Eric had noted within the first hour of their conversation. “No, I’ve never met any aliens.” Eric thought for a moment. “I actually don’t know a lot about any of the other species, honestly. Southern education about space stuff is...” He paused for a moment. “Lacking.” That was saying the very least, but Eric was nothing if not respectful.

            “Oh!” Chowder said, eyes lighting up, “If you’d like, I could send over some data entries on the different galactic species! Short snippets talking generally about their culture, government, biology, stuff like that. I even have a few essays I’ve written about xenobiology and how it aligns with human biology and the evolution of life in the Milky Way if you’d like to read them!”

            Bitty blinked. “Sure, Chowder,” he said, “Those all sound really interesting.” Reading for him to fall asleep with, at least.

            “Trust me,” Ransom said as he walked in from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, “Those papers he wants you to read are basically dissertation length.” Eric pointedly refused to look at Ransom until he was fully clothed. He didn’t want to be _that_ guy.

            Eric sighed. “Do either of y’all know when Holster and Jack might be back?”

            Chowder opened his mouth to respond, but the lights in the ship dimmed and an alarm started blaring. “What the fuck?” Ransom said, “Do either of you keep your regulation pistol in your lockers?”

            Bitty shook his head. He hadn’t wanted to touch the thing since Holster had issued it to him. He hated the idea of combat. He wanted to be a cook, he was sure that would keep him as far from combat as possible. “Mine’s in lockup next to the airlock,” he said.

            “Mine too,” Chowder said, “I left it up there after the last time on Omega and forgot to bring it back down.”

            Ransom sighed. “Okay,” he said. He rushed into the bathroom. When he came back he was holding an Alliance standard-issue pistol. “Stick close to me, then. If that boarding signal is any indication, we may need to defend ourselves.”

            Eric’s blood ran cold. “Boarding?” he asked, breathless.

            Ransom nodded. “That specific alarm only blares when there are intruders on the ship.”

            “How could they break into the airlock?” Chowder asked.

            Ransom shook his head. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, “We just need to hold on until Jack and Holster get back. We may have Lardo here, but we’re missing two of our heavy hitters.”

            Eric was silent, even though he was curious about how _Lardo_ could be one of their heavy hitters. He was silently panicking about the idea that there were intruders on the ship.

            A voice came over the intercom as Ransom opened his mouth. “False alarm, everyone,” Jack said, his voice laced with static, “I put extra security on the door since we’re docked at Omega, but Holster forgot and rushed in without deactivating the extra measures.”

            Bitty released a shaky breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Holster is going to give me a heart attack, I swear,” he said.

            “You and me both,” Ransom muttered, mostly to himself. He un-tensed a bit and moved to put his pistol back in his locker.

            Eric ran a hand through his hair, relieved that he wouldn’t have to face anyone trying to kill him today. The worry that it could happen nagged at the back of his mind, though.

 

*          *          *

 

            The next couple of days passed in much the same fashion. Eric got to know the crew better. Lardo had even roped him into a game of ping-pong. Nobody had warned him of her skill at the game, though. Halfway through the game, Shitty had walked into the room, looked at the table, muttered, “Poor soul,” and left.

            Eric found himself hanging out with Shitty and Lardo most of all the crew. Chowder and Tater liked to keep him company while he was cooking meals for everyone, though. Eric secretly thought it was so that they could get the first servings, but it was nice to have the company.

            Chowder, Nursey, and Dex sat at the table now as Eric cooked a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and frozen hash browns. It had been three days since they arrived at Omega, and Jack and Holster hadn’t been back for more than a quick meal or two and to sleep. Worry bubbled in Eric’s stomach. What if they couldn’t find the information they needed? What if they had to stay here for longer than a week? Eric  couldn’t stand being stuck in here for more than another day or two before he’d start getting cabin fever. Even worse, what if either of them got hurt without anyone there to back them up?

            The thought struck him like concrete rushing to meet him halfway. He blinked. He knew he’d been worried, but he didn’t think he could have gotten so attached so quickly in order to be _that_ worried.

            “Bitty?” Dex said, “Are you okay? Something smells like it’s burning.” He quirked his head and sniffed. “Probably the bacon.”

            Eric snapped his attention to the frypan in front of him and pulled it off the heat. “Damn it!” he said. He had been lost in thought and hadn’t noticed. “Thanks Dex.”

            Dex nodded. “You don’t usually burn stuff,” he remarked.

            “Smooth,” Nursey said, earning a jab in the ribs from his boyfriend.

            Eric chuckled. “I’m fine,” he said, “Just wonderin’ what the boys are up to.”

            “Nothing yet,” Jack said as he walked in, “We got some information we needed, but I’m meeting a contact later to check on the validity of the info. Holster is exploring some other leads.” He plopped onto a chair at the table. “Want to come with me and see Omega, Bittle?”

            Eric smiled. “Why Commander,” he said, “Are you requesting a non-combat crew member to have your back at one of the most dangerous criminal outposts in the Terminus Systems?”

            Jack quirked an eyebrow briefly. “Are you saying no?”

            Eric rolled his eyes. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann,” he said, “And don’t you look at me like that, I looked you up as soon as I knew your name.” Jack flushed a bit and cleared his throat, but didn’t look away from Eric. “Jack Laurent,” he continued, “Do you really have to ask me if I’d like to set foot on an alien world?”

            “Technically-“ Jack started, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

            “I know it’s not a planet, Mr. Zimmermann,” Eric interrupted, “And don’t you chirp me right now.” He paused, eyeing Jack. When he said nothing, Eric continued. “I need to get off this ship pronto or I very well might die of boredom.”

            Jack smiled. It was a good look for him. “Trust me,” he said, “Afterlife will be far from boring.”

            “Afterlife?” Eric asked as he finished up making breakfast.

            “It’s a club on Omega,” Nursey said, “It’s cool if you’re into that scene.”

            “Which I’m not,” Jack said, “But Kent wanted to meet there.”

            “Wait,” Dex said, “You’re meeting Kent Parson? Is that a good idea?”

            Jack steeled his jaw. “Kent and I are doing better,” he said, his voice a little cold. He breathed deeply and exhaled through his mouth, which seemed to calm him a bit. “Thanks for the concern, though.”

            Dex’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. He nodded. “Just want to have your back,” he said. Eric was starting to notice that Dex was as blunt as they came. He kind of liked that, though. He filed that away for a later date, in case he needed someone to be straight with him.

            “Who’s Kent Parson?” Eric asked.

            The table turned to him, aghast. “He’s the single most well-known Alliance soldier in the galaxy,” Chowder said, “He’s even an N7 and a Spectre.”

            “Neither of those terms mean anything to me,” Eric said, suddenly feeling very stupid.

            Jack looked at him strangely. “The N7 program is for exceptional Alliance soldiers,” he said, “They’re the best of the best. And Spectres are special operatives who serve the galaxy under the Citadel Council and work to maintain stability.”

            “Right,” Eric said, his cheeks heating, “Sorry.”

            Chowder frowned. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You said yourself that your education wasn’t the best in this stuff.”

            Eric relaxed. “Thanks, Chowder,” he said. He felt incredible affection for Chowder. He continued to be kind and compassionate. It was very refreshing when compared to his time on Earth. Leaving his home had been the best thing to ever happen to him.

            “Be sure to grab your pistol before we leave the ship,” Jack said, “I don’t expect anything to happen. But I want to be prepared.”

            Eric nodded as they all sat down to eat.

 

*          *          *

 

            Afterlife was rather empty for a club, but Eric was charmed nonetheless. The lights around them flashed bright colors, there was music thumping in the background, and they had found a table with a view of the asari dancers. Eric wasn’t overly interested in the dancers, but it was nice to finally see an asari up close. They looked a lot like human women in many regards. But they had no hair anywhere, including eyebrows or eyelashes, and where there would be hair on the top of a human’s head, asari had tentacle-like cartilage crests. They tended to range in skin color from blue to purple, and some had facial markings of various colorings.

            Eric glimpsed a few krogan, their hulking amphibian forms noticeable even from a distance. He saw a few turians, their sharp carapaces and slightly dinosaur-looking faces sticking out in the crowd due to their height. One or two salarians, their stereotypical alien appearances shocking Eric, walked by the table where he and Jack sat side-by-side. There were also plenty of humans, but the aliens were far more interesting. There were some other aliens that Eric couldn’t recognize the names of, but he was fascinated by them all.

            “Enjoying the scenery?” Jack said. Eric must have been a little too obvious about his excitement over the aliens. Jack was smiling, though, so Eric didn’t tense as much as he might have.

            “Sorry,” he said, “It’s just kinda cool.”

            “I know,” Jack said, “I was really excited the first time I met an alien, too.” He grinned. “Wait till you meet a vorcha.”

            “You sure you wanna scare the kid into going back to Earth?” a voice said from behind Eric. He turned to see a man between him and Jack’s height with slicked back blond hair. He was broad and muscular, obviously an active Alliance officer judging by his Alliance-issued casual wear. “Hey Zimms,” he said.

            “Hey Kenny,” Jack said, a bit softer than Eric would have expected.

            “Hi,” Eric said nervously. He held out his hand. “I’m Eric Bittle.”

            Kent looked him up and down briefly before shaking his hand. “Kent Parson,” he said, “Nice to meet you.”

            “You said you had the info I needed?” Jack said.

            Kent nodded and slid into the booth across from Eric. “The Ace picked up scans over Anhur that seemed innocuous enough,” he said, “Until my science officer looked more closely and noticed some discrepancies. We were the ones to bring it up to the Alliance.” He fiddled with his omnitool. “I’m asking my science officer to bring the scans and some other info we found over to the Samwell. Maybe getting some more eyes on this will bring some fresh light. But we suspect a new gang is forming on Anhur. Info suggests the members are all human.”

            “If that’s the case,” Jack said, his brow furrowed, “They could be trying to start a war with the batarians. They share the world with the Alliance. A rising gang could spell trouble, especially if they target the batarian embassies in the larger human settlements.”

            Kent nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking,” he said, “My crew and I were prepared to check it out, but Hall said that we should get you in on it. He didn’t want us going in alone, especially with the Ace not being equipped for stealth like the Samwell.”

            Jack nodded. “Do you have anything else?”

            “Maybe,” Kent said, “I have a guy getting some other info as we speak. He should be back soon. Hopefully he’ll have some tech that’ll help map out the underground facility we detected.”

            “Talkin’ about me?” a man said as he approached. He was about Kent’s height, with brown hair and an undercut. He was slightly chubby, so he couldn’t have been an active Alliance soldier like Kent and Jack. Kent slid further into the booth and the new man plopped beside him.

            “Did you get it?” Kent asked.

            The new man rolled his eyes. “Do you even know me?”

            Kent quirked an eyebrow. “Intimately,” he said, voice low.

            The man laughed. “Shut up, Kenny,” he said fondly. He waved at Jack. “Hey Jack.”

            Jack smiled. “Hey, Davey,” he said, “This is Eric Bittle. My ship’s new cook.”

            Davey smirked and looked pointedly at Jack before holding a hand out to Eric. “Marshal Davidson,” he said, “But Kent’s crew saddled me with Davey as soon as I set foot on the ship.”

            Eric shook his hand. “I got Bitty,” he said, “How long have you been on Kent’s ship?”

            Davey laughed. “Oh, no,” he said, “I’m not with the Alliance. I’m a scientist. I live on the Citadel, but Kent calls me in for favors now and then.”

            “Hey,” Kent said defensively, “I need _some_ excuse to see my boyfriend every once in a while.”

            Davey looked at Kent, his eyebrow raised. “Like you ever need a reason,” he said.

            “Fair.”

            “I dropped the tech off with your engineers, Jack,” Davey said, “I figured the tech should go on the Samwell since you’ll do most of the sneaking.”

            “Probably,” Jack said, “Hopefully Nursey and Dex can get it equipped soon. The crew is starting to get a little stir-crazy.”

            “We really are,” Eric whined, “Who knew space could be so boring when you’re not allowed off the ship?”

            “Hey!” a voice sounded from across the club. A burly human, followed by a bunch of similarly burly people, was making his way towards them. “You’re the little shit that stole my tech!”

            “Marsh,” Kent said to Davey, “I thought you said you were going to work your connections.”

            Davey grimaced. “And I did,” he said, “They just weren’t good enough connections, so I kind of took the tech and left some credits in the unconscious guard’s omnitool.”

            “Aren’t you supposed to use your space magic for good, not evil?” Kent said, smirking.

            “Biotics are neither good or evil,” Davey said, “And this is serving a greater purpose anyway.”

            “Regardless of the legality of the tech,” Jack interrupted, “We need to be able to get back to the Samwell and the Ace if we want to use it.”

            Davey sighed. “Point taken,” he said, “We can take ‘em.”

            “Oh I have no doubt,” Kent said, “But I was hoping to save my energy for later, babe.”

            “Okay, gross,” Jack said, “You two need to get a room. Save the flirting for after you two are back on the Ace.”

            “Says the guy who used to be like that with me,” Kent said. He had a shit-eating grin on his face.

            Jack just rolled his eyes as he stood up to face the approaching group. “Just shut up and fight,” he said.

            Eric tensed at the sight of the group of thugs approaching them. They all had at least five inches and seventy pounds on him. The three others launched into battle, Jack and Kent throwing punches. Jack was precise, like he had been practicing forever. Kent was scrappy, his punches wild and full of energy. Davey was flinging Mass Effect fields at some of the stragglers, pulling them into the air where he knocked them out with a bolt of energy as they spun, suspended.

            Eric could only cringe and stand back, taking the scene in. A man noticed him, and started towards him. Eric squeaked and dove under the table, curling into the fetal position. He closed his eyes in preparation for the coming blow. He didn’t want to have to see it coming.

            But it never came. A couple minutes later, Jack’s voice was calling him softly from the edge of the table. “Bittle,” he said, “Are you okay?”

            Eric could only nod. He let Jack help him up. He wrapped his arms around himself and refused to look at Jack, Kent, or Davey. He knew what they must be thinking, how they must be looking at him right now.

            “Let’s go back to the ship,” Jack said, voice still soft. Eric nodded and followed Jack out of Afterlife. They picked up their guns from the coat check on the way out. Kent and Davey followed close behind.

            Jack, Kent, and Davey said their goodbyes near the port. Davey smiled at Eric and waved goodbye. Kent put a hand gently on his shoulder. Eric flinched, but didn’t pull away. “Hope to see you again,” he said, squeezing.

            “Yeah,” Eric said, his voice soft and wavering, “You too.”

            “I found you!” the man leading the group from earlier said from the end of the hall leading to the port. Blood was running down from his nose. He raised a gun, aiming at Jack. “You hurt me, now I hurt you.”

            Eric didn’t think. He stood in front of Jack as quickly as he could. He heard the gunshot, and only barely registered the pain blooming from the top of his left shoulder. He looked down and saw the rip in his shirt. The man was a terrible shot, only just grazing Eric’s shoulder, which wasn’t even in front of Jack. He probably wouldn’t have even hit anything if Eric hadn’t moved. Eric saw blood and collapsed.


	5. Combat Practice

            Jack’s own voice rang inside his head, replaying the same thing over and over. “Bitty,” he had said, softly, as Bitty had fallen to the ground. Bitty, Bitty, Bitty, Bitty, Bitty. It was all he could think about. An endless loop of Bitty’s name playing concurrently with the guilt.

            Jack sat beside the bed Bitty was currently occupying, unconscious. “He’ll be fine,” Ransom had said, “He just fainted. The rest will help.” Jack wasn’t sure he could relax just yet. He had let this happen. He hadn’t been able to protect him. He had seen Bitty jump in front of him. Why would he do that? Jack could take a hit. He had plenty of times. He had plenty of scars to prove it. Bitty couldn’t take the hit. He had crumpled at the very idea. Jack wasn’t even sure Bitty would be able to fire a gun if it was necessary. He was a liability. He should have been reporting this to the Alliance, he should-

            Except he couldn’t. Bitty didn’t deserve that. He was quickly becoming a valued member of the crew. Even Jack was warming up to him, even just a little. The smells coming from the kitchen every morning were becoming routine. Jack was starting to like him even.

            But that didn’t change the fact that he would be trouble in the event the ship was boarded. It had happened several times before. The Samwell’s stealth capabilities also meant fewer defenses. The crew had had to repel attackers in their home many times before. Including the couple of times Shitty had insisted on throwing a party in the cargo hold.

            The door swished open. “How’s he doing?” Kent asked as he entered. He and Davey had come back to the Samwell with them. Kent had helped carry Bitty back to the ship, and Davey had kept anyone that wished them harm at bay. Kent had ordered the Ace to rendezvous with them at the Citadel. Justin had asked them to wait for Bitty to wake up before making a Relay jump, though, so the Samwell was stuck near the Relay for the time being.

            “He seems fine,” Jack replied. He buried his face in his hands. “I should have done-“

            “You couldn’t have done shit and you know it,” Kent interrupted, “He’s the one that took the hit. That’s not on you.”

            Kent was right, of course. But Jack still felt the pangs of guilt hammer at him. “He- My crew needs to know that I have their backs.”

            Kent walked over and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “They know,” he said quietly.

            Jack closed his eyes. He knew Kent was telling the truth. He could always rely on Kent to tell him when he was being stupid. That’s how their relationship had always been. For better or worse. “I need to help him somehow.”

            “How? He’s just sleeping.”

            Jack sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe some combat practice after he feels better?”

            “You want to scare the kid more? You saw how he reacted to those assholes in Afterlife.”

            Jack watched Bitty’s chest move with his breaths. It soothed him. “Yes,” he admitted, “But that doesn’t change that he took a bullet for me when he didn’t have to. He’s brave. He just needs help dealing with his fear.”

            Kent looked at him, gears turning in his head. “Do you think that maybe,” he said, “He’s scared for a reason?”

            Jack watched Bitty’s face, brow furrowed. Maybe Kent had a point. Why would Bitty react that way? Could there have been some sort of trauma that wasn’t listed in his records? Could he help Bitty through that? “I-“

            Bitty groaned and fluttered his eyes open. “Where-“ he started to say, sitting up. He clenched. “Ow!” he yelled, “What the fuck?”

            “Bittle,” Jack said, standing up, “You were hurt.” He reached out his hands, but pulled them back and put them at his sides. He had to control his urge to touch, to comfort. “You’re in the med-bay.”

            Bitty touched near his wound tentatively. “I remember that much,” he said softly, “Did y’all get the guy who-“

            “He’s not a problem anymore,” Kent said darkly. He didn’t elaborate.

            Bitty frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I know y’all shouldn’t have had to-“

            “Don’t be,” Jack said, “You’re part of the crew. We have each other’s backs.”

            Bitty looked to be on the brink of tears. “I can’t have anyone’s back if I-“ He paused and sniffled. “If I can’t even face anyone without curlin’ into a ball.”

            “Not everyone is made for combat,” Kent said gently.

            Bitty stuck his chin out. “But I’m Alliance,” he said forcefully, his voice shaking, “I should be able to-“ He paused. “To fight if I need to. What if the boarding alert the other day had been real?”

            “But it wasn’t,” Jack said. He was a little startled by Bitty’s reaction. There was a ferocity, a fire, Jack hadn’t seen before. Maybe Bitty wasn’t made for combat, but he sure as hell had the spirit for it.

            “And if it is?” Bitty asked, eyes boring into Jack’s soul, “The next time?”

            Jack didn’t have an answer.

            All the fight seemed to leave Bitty then. “Lord,” he said, “I’m tired. Can y’all go so I can sleep a bit more?”

            Kent paused before moving to go. Jack stood. “Sure, Bittle,” he said, “We’ll be sitting here until Ransom clears you for the Jump.”

            “Okay,” Bitty said as they went. Jack looked back as the door was closing. He could almost swear Bitty was starting to cry.

 

*          *          *

 

            Eric was being stupid and he knew it. He had come to the ship to be a cook, not to shoot bad guys and defend the galaxy. “Pull it together, Bittle,” he said to himself. He swung his legs off the bed and turned, careful not to bother his shoulder. It stung a little bit, but he’d had worse injuries. He just wasn’t a fan of blood. He stood gingerly, and found that he had no issue with walking. It’s not like he’d concussed himself. He had been worried that’d been the case from his fall. His cheeks heated at the thought that he had fainted in front of two Alliance ship captains.

            He shook his head and walked around a bit. Satisfied that he could still walk, he slipped back onto the med-bay bed. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The bed wasn’t comfortable enough to sleep, though. He groaned. He got back out of bed and trudged across the hall to the crew’s quarters. Nobody was there, thankfully, so he slipped into his bunk near the bathroom and closed his eyes again. The crew’s beds were more comfortable than the med-bay beds, but Eric still wasn’t feeling like he could fall asleep, tired as he was.

            He groaned, loud. This was getting ridiculous. Maybe baking until he couldn’t keep his eyes open would help. He stomped out into the hall and zigzagged into the galley. Lardo, Shitty, and Davey were seated at the table. They grew silent as he entered. He felt his cheeks grow hot again, and he pointedly ignored them before moving into the kitchen to start on a pie. He had to be careful with his shoulder, but he had worked through worse pain.

            “Bitty?” Shitty asked from the table, “How you feeling?”

            “Fine,” Eric said. He turned to the trio and smiled. He hoped it was reassuring. Shitty glanced at Lardo, who glanced back. She raised an eyebrow at Eric, a silent communication.

            “I’m _fine_ ,” he reiterated, “Don’t even worry, y’all.” He set to work getting a pie together. The three at the table resumed conversation shortly after.

            “You and Kayli gonna meet up when we get there?” Shitty asked.

            “Yeah,” Lardo said, “She said she’d clear her schedule to spend a day with me. She said, and I quote, ‘The politicians here can fuck the fuck off and eat an entire Thresher Maw.’”

            Shitty and Davey laughed. “Goddamn I love her,” Shitty said.

            “Should I sexile myself from the apartment?” Davey asked.

            “Would probably be smart, bro,” Lardo said.

            Eric looked back at his friends. “Who’s Kayli?”

            “My girlfriend and Davey’s roommate,” Lardo said, “She works as an ambassador for the asari on the Citadel.” She grinned. “She absolutely hates it.”

            “Then why do it?” Eric asked.

            Lardo cocked her head. “It pays well,” she said, “Plus she gets to help people sometimes. She says that’s worth the bullshit.”

            Eric bit his lip. He wasn’t sure Lardo was talking just about her girlfriend anymore. Weren’t those some of the reasons Eric had wanted to be with the Alliance? Because they made a difference? Because he could see the stars and get paid to do it? Because he could help people by helping the people that helped them? At that thought he shook his head, confusing himself with the wording. “I’ll be glad to meet her,” he said, turning back to the pie filling he was preparing.

 

*          *          *

 

            It had been a few days since Bitty had woken up after the injury. Ransom still hadn’t cleared him for a jump. “He keeps bothering his shoulder with the baking,” he had said, “All the fucking baking!” Nobody on the ship had done anything to stop the constant supply of pie, though.

            Jack was getting a little annoyed at being stuck until Bitty was cleared. He absolutely hated not being able to get out and about. He had taken to running in circles around the ship. He had too much nervous energy and too few outlets for it.

            He had decided that morning to start the practices with Bitty. They may not be able to practice the physical side of it yet due to Bitty’s injury, but it wouldn’t hurt to practice with a gun. Bitty had shyly admitted his nervousness around them the day before, revealing that even looking at a gun was enough to stress him out.

            Jack had just finished a shower as he considered the best way to bring it up. He had just finished a run, so everyone else had already showered and got to work on the few daily chores they all had. Perhaps Bitty would be more open to the idea of the practices if Jack promised to pay for extra food? He wrapped a towel around his waist, his hair still a little wet and a few stray droplets clinging to his chest and stomach. He walked out into the hallway, intent to rush into his room and get changed. Instead, he bumped directly into Bitty, the shorter man’s face bumping against his upper chest.

            “Oh! Jack!” Bitty said as soon as he realized who he had bumped into, “I’m awful sorry about that!” Bitty backed up and his eyes widened. His eyes stayed resolutely on Jack’s face, which made Jack uncomfortable. He’d much rather there be some flick of the eyes. The steel cut his flesh and he wished it would leave a scar for how it made him feel.

            Wait. What?

            Jack narrowed his eyes at the man before him. He couldn’t place what he was feeling. “You okay, Bittle?”

            “Fine!” Bitty said. It was just a tad too quick of a response.

            “Good.” Jack felt his face heat up a bit. He hoped it wasn’t obvious. Bitty’s cheeks burned, and the red trickled down his neck to below his shirt’s collar. He wondered how far it went. Did the blush extend all the way to his toes? Some kind of mock-tattoo?

            “Great!” Bitty said. He smiled. It was very obviously fake. Even to Jack.

            Jack bit the inside of his cheek. “So,” he said. He took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. Why? It was just Bitty. “Um. Would you mind meeting me in the cargo bay later? I think some combat practice would do you some good.”

            Bitty paled. “No physical contact I hope,” he said nervously, “My shoulder ain’t exactly up to it quite yet.”

            “No,” Jack replied, “Just getting  you used to the feel of a gun in your hands. You said you were nervous around them.”

            “I did,” Bitty said. He sighed. “Lord. I guess I’ll meet you there. I’ll be ready in fifteen.” He trudged into the bathroom, skirting around Jack. He closed the door to the toilet gingerly, cutting Jack off. Feeling off, Jack walked to his room to change.

 

*          *          *

 

            Eric walked into the cargo bay about twelve minutes later. He was reluctant to be spending so much time with the captain. After the weird facial expressions he had given Eric in the med-bay and just now in the hall, not to mention the weird looks he’d been giving him since Eric had joined, he wasn’t sure that Jack liked him all that much. He tried to be nice for the most part. Eric could recognize that the Commander was trying. But Lord if those looks didn’t speak volumes.

            Jack was leaning against a large crate near the back of the large room, completely decked out in armor save for a helmet. His bare face was stony as always, but there was a hint of something else. Something Eric couldn’t identify. There was an open container of weapons to his side. A pistol was proudly displayed near the front, taunting Eric. On the other side of the room, Jack had set up a target, a standard-issue practice hologram that picked up which of the concentric rings each shot hit. Behind the holographic display was some scrap metal to catch the shots. As Eric approached, Jack just motioned his head towards the pistol. Eric silently picked it up.

            The piece of metal felt awkward in his hands. His brain unhelpfully supplied the fact that it could hurt Jack if Eric wasn’t careful. He hated the thing.

            “Shoot,” Jack said.

            Eric held the gun up like he’d been taught in basic. He still didn’t like the fact that he was holding it, but he could fake through the target drills. It was when he was holding it up against other people that he had the problem. He had even been a decent shot in basic.  
            At least, in theory. He still couldn’t shoot anything living.

            He fired at Jack’s instruction until the weapon was overheating and he had to slam a coolant charge into the heated metal. Jack provided small suggestions to variations in his aim, making his shots hit closer to the center much more frequently. It was mindless, and Eric was happy to indulge Jack if this was all it meant. He could fake through this easy.

            “Enough,” Jack said as soon as Eric had cooled the gun a third time. He looked at his omnitool, likely looking at the scores from the target hologram. “Good. What do you say we try a living target?”

            Eric panicked. “I don’t think...” he started to say. Jack would have none of it.

            “It’ll be completely safe, Bittle. A few hits won’t break my armor. Or get through my shields.” Jack walked over to stand in front of the target. “Shoot. And try to avoid to avoid my head.” He smiled softly. “I trust you, Bittle.”

            Eric swallowed and raised the gun slowly. His brain screamed at him to lower the gun. To throw it away and never look at it again. He trembled. “I can’t,” he said softly.

            “Take the shot, Bittle,” Jack said. His eyes and voice were soft. His face was softer than Eric had ever seen it. Jack trusted him. Even though they had just been thrown onto a ship together. Even though Eric was a burden on the crew. Even though he didn’t know Eric wouldn’t miss and hit his head.

            He realized suddenly that he liked Jack. Despite the strange looks and the awkwardness. Jack was kind underneath it all. Eric liked that in a person. He could see himself becoming friends with his captain. Maybe-

            He stopped himself. Clamping on that train of thought. No. Not again.

            “Take the shot.”

            Eric flicked his eyes to Jack, still trembling. No matter how kind Jack was, he couldn’t do it. It was because of that kindness, because Eric liked him, that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t trust himself, even if Jack did.

            “I can’t,” he said again, “I’m sorry.” He relaxed his arms, letting them fall to his sides. The gun hung loosely in his hand. He hung his head, ashamed.

            “Okay,” Jack said, “We can keep trying.” Eric looked up. He was sure his eyebrows were currently scraping the ceiling. “You won’t make any progress if you give up, eh?” Jack smiled at him. “We’ll just keep going until you can take the shot.”

            Eric smiled back. Perhaps he couldn’t take the shot quite yet. But he was sure that with Jack’s help, he would be able to soon enough.


	6. The Citadel

            Two days and two combat practices later, Eric had finally been cleared for a jump. He hadn’t felt himself improving any in the combat practices, but Jack kept assuring him that he was doing fine. They were all very ready to get to the Citadel and, more importantly, off the ship. They would do it as long as necessary, they were Alliance after all, but Eric couldn’t help but notice the release of breath as soon as Jack announced that they’d be at the Citadel within the day.

            Eric was now sitting in bed, reading up on what there would be to do on the Citadel. They would be there at least three days by Jack’s estimate. “I’ll deliver my report to General Hall and we’ll await orders,” Jack had said, “Maybe we’ll be able to hang out or something while we’re there.”

            “Oh!” Eric had said, surprised, “Sure!” He had agreed to Jack showing him around after coming back from his meeting with Hall. It would be nice to be around Jack in a situation that didn’t require weapons.

            “Eric?” Lardo said now, walking in from the bathroom, “Shitty told me that you and Jack are hanging out after he reports.” She rose an eyebrow, questioning.

            Eric smiled at her. “He offered to show me around,” he said, “Why?”

            Lardo stared at Eric, eyes calculating. “Do you need something to do while you wait?” she finally said.

            “What did you have in mind?”

            She tilted her head minutely. “I’m sure Kayli and I could keep your entertained for a few minutes while you wait for Jack.”

            “I’d love to meet her,” Eric said.

            Lardo nodded. “Okay. I’ll meet you in the airlock when we get there.” She turned and left. Eric sighed and closed out of the extranet search he’d been doing. They were going to jump within a few minutes, and they’d be at the Citadel shortly after that, so he would have to at least leave the crew quarters now.

            He made his way to the bridge so he could see the approach to the Citadel and then be right there for when Lardo wanted to leave. “Hey, Tater,” Eric said. Shitty wasn’t at his station in the chair to the left of the galaxy map, so Eric took the seat. The Samwell was queued to use the Relay. They were about fifth in line.

            “Bitty!” Tater said, “How are you doing?” He smiled at Bitty. It was lopsided and toothy, which was fitting for him.

            “I’m alright,” Eric said, “I’ve never seen the Citadel before, so I kind of want to see it before we get there.”

            Tater nodded. “Of course,” he said, “You are a little one. Sometimes I forget that things like that are new for you.”

            “Who you callin’ little?” Eric said, pouting.

            Tater laughed. “You are called Bitty for a reason, young friend. Is that not true?”

            “Well yes, but-“

            “And I am older than you, yes?”

            “Yes,” Eric said.

            “Then you are little,” Tater said. He smiled again and Eric really couldn’t hold the “little” against him. Tater was just too nice to stay mad at.

            “You’re right,” he said, smiling himself. Tater was infectious.

            They were now first in line, so they grew quiet as Tater put in the mass of the ship and sent it off to the Relay. They jumped, which still felt odd to Eric. This was only his second time doing it after all.

            When they dropped out of the jump, Tater waited a moment before launching the ship into a regular FTL jump. “Why the heck are you doin’ that?”

            “The Citadel is in another area of the cluster,” he said, “We must do an FTL jump to get there.”

            “That seems... Inefficient.”

            Tater shrugged. “It has served the Council well over the years. For the most part.”

            Eric’s stomach dropped. Tater was talking about the Reaper War. He still remembered his dad’s stories about the Reapers, gigantic robot bodies for a race of AI that had destroyed all sapient life in the galaxy every fifty thousand years before finally being destroyed by an Alliance Commander. The Reapers had transported the Citadel to Earth, where the final battle of the war had taken place. The Citadel had been damaged severely, and was still undergoing intense repairs, during the final strike on the Reapers. The energy beam that Commander Shepard had released had damaged the Citadel and the Relay network immensely, but it had destroyed all AI in the galaxy once and for all. It may not have been the best answer to the threat, but it was what had to be done to stop complete extinction of all the Milky Way species.

            “When was it taken back?” Eric asked.

            “To the Serpent Nebula?” Tater said, “About three years ago, once there were enough repairs done that the Council felt it could be defended there.” Tater paused and looked at Eric. “Are you telling me you never visited while it was still near Earth?”

            Eric frowned. “My parents were extremely paranoid about space after the war.”

            Tater nodded. “That makes sense,” he said, “Well at least you can visit now, yes?”

            Eric smiled. “Yeah.”

            They dropped out of the jump and the Citadel was immediately dominating the view. It was slightly open, like a flower just beginning to open in spring. It had five arms, three of which were still being repaired. The three arms being repaired were half broken still, with scaffolding in place for as they were repaired and rebuilt. The space station, even while not fully repaired, was impressive.

            The nebula in the background was beautiful, as well. It was different shades of purple. People thought that the cloud of stardust was developed over the course of thousands of years as the massive space station ejected debris automatically. Others thought it had existed before the Citadel had been placed there. Either way, the scene was breathtaking.

            As they made their approach, the immense size of the space station became clear. Eric had heard that the station supported a population of more than thirteen million, and he hadn’t quite believed it. That number made sense now after seeing it in person.

            They were headed for the Presidium, a ring at the back where the arms connected to a central point.  The Samwell got clearance and made way for one of the station’s many docks. Lardo, Shitty, Jack, Kent, Davey, Chowder, Nursey, and Dex came in shortly after that. Ransom and Holster were apparently staying on the ship for a few more hours. “Holster said they wanted to hang out alone,” he said.

            “Fucking finally,” Shitty said, “Took ‘em long enough.”

            “Pardon?” Eric said.

            “They’ve been crushing on each other for literal years,” Lardo said.

            Dex grimaced. “It’s been pretty pathetic to watch,” he said.

            “Says the guy who didn’t know I was into him until I literally asked if we were dating?” Nursey said, eyebrow quirked.

            “Fuck off,” Dex said, blushing. It was very apparent on his pale, freckled skin. It almost matched the red of his hair.

            As soon as docking was finished, the lot of them scrambled to get off the ship. As Eric stepped onto the Citadel, he got his first good look at the Presidium. You could see the curve of the ring from wherever you were standing on the ceiling, the simulated blue sky and clouds curving upwards on either horizon. The ground they stood on was mostly metallic, with planters strewn all over the place. People of all different species were walking around, he could even see vague shapes of living things standing on the decks of apartments across the Presidium’s lake from them. The lake stretched around the ring on the same side as they were oriented, and most of the structures within the ring were on either side up on the curve of the ring. The lake had statues and fountains littered across as far as could be seen. There were occasional bridges, too, both across the lake and in the air.

            Nursey and Dex mumbled something about Nursey’s parents and rushed off. Shitty complained loudly about how he had to see his grandparents before trudging away from his friends. Jack quietly slipped away for his meeting with Hall. They were going to meet at some café nearby when he was done. Chowder bounded away to do some shopping. Kent, Davey, Lardo, and Eric walked in a group towards the apartments by the dock, making their way to Davey and Kayli’s apartment.

            They didn’t get farther than the door. As soon as Davey opened the door, Eric heard a squeal and Lardo fell to the floor underneath a pile of blue skin and tentacle-like hair. “Larissa!” the asari woman who must have been Kayli said, “You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

            “Uh,” Lardo said, “Surprise?”

            Kayli smacked her. “Rude,” she said, “You should have told me.”

            “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Davey said.

            Kayli looked up at him from where she was sitting over Lardo’s torso. “Of course _you_ knew about this,” she said, “Why do the two most important people to me always betray me like this? I am _wounded_ Marsh.”

            “Am I a wetland now?”

            “You’re not sweet enough to be Marshmallow.”

            “Now you wound _me_ ,” he said, placing his hand to his chest. He smiled at her and held out his hand to help her up.

            “Did you have to jump on me?” Lardo asked as soon as they were both upright, “I’m not exactly a waterbed.”

            “Wouldn’t that be nice,” Kayli said wistfully, “I’d be able to jump on you all day.”

            “Okay ew,” Kent said, “You two stay here and work out your sexual frustration. Davey and I will occupy Eric until Jack gets back instead.”

            “Thanks, Parse,” Lardo said, moving through the open door into the apartment, “You’re an absolute treasure.”

            “Yeah yeah,” he said, “Get a room you disgustingly adorable freaks.”

            Lardo and Kayli disappeared behind the door as it closed. Davey and Kent turned away from the apartment, headed for the café where Eric and Jack were supposed to meet. “So,” Kent said to Eric, “Jack.”

            Eric scrunched his brow. “What about him?” he said warily.

            Kent shrugged. “Nothing,” he said, “Just wondering what you think of him.”

            “He’s nice,” Eric said, “Seems like a good leader. I’m not sure he likes me much quite yet.”

            Kent raised an eyebrow and looked at Davey. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he said, “I used to think Davey hated me. But then about three months after we met I found out he was only acting nervous and avoiding me because he had a thing for me.” He nudged his boyfriend. “Apparently I flustered him.”

            Davey rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he said, “Like you were any better mister ‘holy-shit-this-guy-likes-me-what-do-I-do-Jack.’”

            Kent bit his lip. “What can I say? You were cute and Jack had been my only other relationship. With a man or a woman.”

            Eric took a second to process this. He had heard Kent joke about things like that with Jack back on Omega and during their stay on the Samwell, but he had passed it off. “You and Jack were together?” he asked quietly.

            “Yeah,” Kent said, brow furrowed, “I thought I’d mentioned.”

            “You did,” Eric said, “I just didn’t register it, I guess.” He paused, thinking. “I didn’t know Jack wasn’t straight.”

            Kent laughed. “Oh my god I forget sometimes that he seems so straight to people who don’t know.” He smirked at Eric. “Trust me, he is _far_ from straight.”

            Eric scrunched his eyebrows together. “Is _anyone_ on the Samwell straight?”

            “Chowder,” Kent and Davey said at the same time.  
            “But we don’t hold it against him,” Kent said.

            They arrived at the café then. It was one of those places where you seat yourself, so they found a table large enough to accommodate four people, leaving room for Jack. They provided extranet links to their menu on the table so you could look up what you might want before going up to order. Eric looked through the menu carefully. It was divided by species, and provided a few dishes native to each. Eric had read a few nights ago about the foods of some of the other species, and it was nice to see something like this, particularly with the specific dietary limitation of the turians and quarians, who often had allergic reactions to the food of some of the other galactic species. Eric finally decided not to be overly adventurous with a burger. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest that it was a representative food of humanity.

            “Hope you didn’t start lunch without me,” Jack said from behind him. Eric whirled around and placed a hand on his chest. “Sorry,” Jack said, looking sheepish. The blush looked far too good on him.

            “Don’t worry about it,” Eric said, “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. What did General Hall say?”

            Jack grimaced as he sat down. “He said we should stay here while he compiles the intel we gathered and forms a plan.” He ran a hand through his hair, pausing to scratch at an area near the back of the top of his head. “We could continue practices while we wait if you like. I have an apartment on the Citadel we could use if you’d like a change of scenery.”

            Bitty smiled. “Sure!” It might be nice to get away from the ship for a while.

            Kent was looking back and forth between Jack and Eric, an eyebrow raised. He shrugged and smirked at Eric. “You’ll love it, Bits,” he said, “It has a great view of stars. Totally romantic.”

            “Oh, so it’s not on the Presidium?” Eric asked.

            Jack looked down. It should _not_ have been as adorable as it was. “It’s in the Wards,” he mumbled, “I didn’t want anything glitzy.” He paused. “If you want to see a home on the Presidium, we could go to my parent’s apartment nearby. They won’t be there I don’t think, but-“

            “Your apartment will be fine, Jack,” Eric said, “Besides, I like seeing the stars.”

            Jack smiled softly. “Okay,” he said, “Maybe after the tour we can practice. I should have the stuff we need there.”

            Eric quirked an eyebrow. “You practice when you’re at home?”

            Jack blushed. “I like to stay in top form.”

            Eric just reached up and patted Jack on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go order.” He stood up and weaved his way through tables of people of all species. There was a bit of a line, so he looked back at the table he had just left. Kent said something and both Davey and Jack laughed. Eric hadn’t heard whatever Kent had said, but he could hear Jack perfectly. His laugh was deep, as expected with his speaking voice and his size. It was nice to hear. His captain seemed so serious sometimes that Eric had wondered initially if he ever knew how to have fun. Fun was a nice look for him.

            He moved forward with the line, but he continued to look at Jack. Given what Kent had said earlier, he allowed himself to really look. He allowed himself to drink in the broad, defined shoulders, the biceps straining his t-shirt slightly, the crinkles around his eyes as he smiled at Kent and Davey, the confident, yet reserved way he carried himself. Eric found himself immensely attracted to Jack, and not just physically either. With the bit of Jack’s personality he’d been able to see, he could feel his heart reaching out to grab hold of what he had found.

            Kent had said that Jack wasn’t straight. So maybe it would be alright for Eric to open his heart, just a little bit. He could be a little selfish. He could afford to this time. He could imagine, just for a moment, the feel of Jack’s lips on his own as he allowed the crush to flourish.

            Jack looked at him, their eyes meeting. Jack offered a little wave and a small smile. Eric was now fine with how his heart fluttered at the motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little surprised I completed this chapter even just a day later than I wanted. I had to go to a literature festival for school this weekend, so I was a little more crunched for time than usual. Anyway, thank you so much to the people supporting this so far! It's been a really fun experience, especially being my first time writing romance. Either way, I just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone! I'm thinking this is about the halfway point of the fic, so that's exciting! Anyway, thanks again!!!!  
> If you want to talk to me on tumblr, I'm theicykey.


	7. Intermission: Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I didn't have much time this weekend to work on another chapter, so I ended up just writing this short drabble about Jack's life in this universe. Apologies that I didn't get a full chapter this week, but gosh I've been busy. I had to write a 16 page short story for a class this weekend so I was a little story'd out. Will go back to regularly scheduled Gay Shit next week!  
> Content warnings for this little section: Discussion of Jack's overdose and things related to that overdose, including mention of suicide in questions of why the overdose happened.   
> Thanks for reading!!!!

            Jack had spent his entire life living under the shadow of his father. His dad, who taught him how to ride a bike, how to love hockey, how to treat people with kindness and respect. His Commander, who taught him how to use a gun, how to disassemble and reassemble a plethora of weapons, how to read a combat situation and respond accordingly. It always felt like there were two sides to his relationship with his father.

            There was Papa, his caring and compassionate friend. Papa would sneak him extra dessert when he thought Maman wasn’t looking. He would pat his back when he woke from a nightmare in the middle of the night. He gave Jack “the talk” when he and Maman came home one night to find he and Kent Parson, a friend from hockey, kissing on the couch. He encouraged Jack in everything he did, and never judged him for things he didn’t do.

            Then there was the Commander, his strict and fearless leader. The Commander would get serious and stressed out just before every deployment. He moved the family from Montréal to the Citadel when he achieved Spectre status. He encouraged Jack to join the Alliance. He was the reason for the worst time of Jack’s life.

            When Jack was in basic, he was able to reconnect with Kent. It was an amazing time. They had been able to keep in touch through the extranet and the occasional video call, but it wasn’t the same as being able to physically touch. And touch they did. It had been as if they had never been apart. They had to be careful, though. If anyone caught them, they’d have been in serious trouble. Not only because they were together. But because they were both men. Humanity had come a long way, but even alien/human relationships were still more acceptable in the Alliance than queer male relationships.

            It all got to be a little much. The anxiety from his relationship, the anxiety of having to live up to his father’s legacy, and the anxiety of the coming assignments coming out of basic was enough to send anyone over the edge.

            He had been diagnosed with anxiety years before. It had never been an issue. He was medicated, so it was all better, right? He would have thought so until it all got to be so much he started taking more of his meds than he strictly should have. It all would have been fine if he’d been able to feel them working the night before assignments.

            He was feeling especially anxious. Kent kept assuring him that everything was alright, that he’d get a really good assignment because of his top scores, but it was hard to believe. He took his meds like always, but he hadn’t felt them working. So he took some more. And then some more. He wasn’t feeling the effects, so he kept taking them until he felt something.

            What he felt was sick.

            They told him later that Kent found him, bottle splayed on the ground with pills spilled everywhere. Kent had said he looked like he was dead. He had apparently been incredibly relieved that Jack was okay. But Jack didn’t want to see him. He couldn’t do that to his closest friend, the man he loved so much.

            Everyone asked him if he had intended to kill himself. He hadn’t even considered it. He was so, so relieved to still be there. He would never have considered that, even when the anxieties were at their worst.

            Facing his parents had been the worst part. He had worried them so much. They didn’t say it, but it showed in their faces. It hurt him to look in Papa’s eyes and see so much concern. It killed him to see Maman look so hurt. But they just expressed relief that he was okay, just said that they would do anything and everything he needed to get better.

            They got him the help he needed. He avoided Kent as long as possible. He avoided phone calls and video calls. It became a problem when Kent kept coming in person. They had a falling out. It was bad. They both said some really terrible things to each other. Jack had felt horrible about it. He never wanted to hurt Kent with all of that, but it was inevitable given the situation. He didn’t know how to make it right.

            He went through basic again once he felt better. He met some really cool people while back at the bottom. Shitty was his first real friend since the accident. Shitty came packaged with Lardo. Shitty and Lardo brought Ransom and Holster. It was good to be around such kind and caring people. It felt like he would be okay.

            Once they all finished basic, they separated for a year. It was a little sad, but Jack was successful enough on his first few assignments that he was entrusted with his own ship, with some strict stipulations about what that would entail. He heard later that Papa had pulled some strings from retirement. Jack was eternally grateful. His parents were still looking out for him.

            The Samwell brought with it Nursey, Dex, and Chowder. Tater was assigned as the pilot shortly after Jack was assigned. Jack requested for Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster to fill out his crew. It had become the perfect crew for him.

            Johnson had requested an assignment as the ship’s cook. Lacking any other ideas, Jack had accepted it. “You won’t even notice me, bro,” Johnson had said, “I’ll only be here long enough to serve as a plot device in a year or so.”

            Everything was good. The Samwell crew did so well that first year together that Jack was considered for promotion to a Commander. Half a year after that, he was granted the promotion. He was on top of the world. He even reconnected with Kent again. It took a while, but they became tentative friends.

            The N7 people contacted him shortly following an unfortunate tragedy on the Citadel where he made a hard decision to save lives. Others were lost, and the attack was almost successful. But it got the Alliance’s attention.

            Everything was going very well for him. He was even notified that he was on a list of candidates for Spectre status, a dream of his since his father had achieved it.

            Then Johnson quit, Bitty joined, and his whole world seemed to shift.


	8. The Perspective of Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So sorry it's been so long since I updated this thing. I got swamped with midterms and dealing with some mental health stuff. Plus my thesis is due in, like, three weeks. This chapter is a little shorter than I would have hoped, and I may go back and revise it at some point. But I felt bad not having updated in a while, so here it is. And it's the titular chapter!  
> Talk to me on tumblr @theicykey.

            Jack was trying not to be anxious, but failing miserably. The apartment was neat enough, but it was pretty dusty. He hadn’t been here for about a year. He really should have come back here more often, but with his duties and the ability to sleep on the ship, he really hadn’t needed to. The last time he had been here had been on shore leave back before he had become captain of the Samwell. Shitty and Lardo had wanted to meet up while they were all on the Citadel, so he had suggested the apartment his parents had convinced him to buy. Then Lardo had met Kayli, whose apartment was larger and closer to the docks, so they hadn’t come back here to hang out since. Kayli and Davey’s apartment was much more appropriate for the parties Shitty liked to throw.

            Having Shitty and Lardo here had been one thing. Bitty would be another. Jack had never shown anyone he was interested in his apartment. The only two people he had ever been involved with—Parse and another friend from his second time in basic, Camilla—hadn’t been around when he got the place. Bitty would be the first.

            Jack’s anxiety peaked when a knock came at the door. “Merde,” he said. He dashed to the coffee table, pushing it out of the way so they’d have space. “I’ll be right there,” he called. He glanced around the small space. The couch wouldn’t be too much of a problem while they were doing what they needed. The coffee table was out of the way now, with the few things they’d need for the practice session placed upon it. The bar that allowed a view into the kitchen had water and Gatorade. Satisfied that the apartment was at least presentable, Jack took a deep breath and went to answer the door.

            “I hope it’s alright,” Bitty said, walking in as soon as Jack opened the door and stepped aside, “But I brought a pie. I couldn’t sleep last night, and pies just sort of appear when I’m anywhere near a kitchen.” He looked around for a second before setting the pie down next to the Gatorade. “I tried somethin’ new. Maple-apple. I found some maple sugar at a store near the docks. They sold all kinds of specialty imports from Earth. You would not _believe_ the selection of apples.”

            Bitty continued to gush about to market, but Jack wasn’t really listening. Bitty was very distracting in his workout clothes. Everything hugged his lithe muscles in all the right ways. It was nice to just hear his voice.

            “Anyway,” Bitty said, snapping Jack out of it, “I really hope you like the pie. If you do, I’d be glad to make some more. I still have some maple sugar on the ship.”

            Jack smiled. “Thanks Bits,” he said, “But I think we should get to training before we have a treat. Getting a little ahead of yourself, eh?”

            Bitty rolled his eyes. “If you insist,” he said, mock-sighing. The two set to work setting up the holographic target. Jack worked with the tech—he was more familiar with the device than Bitty was—while Bitty moved a sheet of metal that Jack had requisitioned behind where they were going to set up the target.

            “Now,” Jack said as soon as they set everything up, “Have you been practicing the mental exercises I suggested?”

            Bitty nodded. “They seem to be helping. I’m not freezing at the thought of holding a gun anymore. Which is probably a good thing?” He said it like it was a question.

            Jack nodded. “We’ll see if it has the effect I was hoping for.” He grabbed the gun they had been using for practice from the coffee table and handed it to Bitty. “Raise it and aim at the target. Take a deep breath and do whatever mental care you need. You can do this, Bits.”

            Bitty nodded. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and raised the gun. He opened his eyes and adjusted his aim. It wouldn’t hit bullseye, but that wasn’t the point. If he could only fire, their training would take a huge step.

            Jack held his breath. Bitty was still focusing, employing all the strategies that Jack had given him. He knew that Bitty could do this. He was just worried that _Bitty_ didn’t believe it.

            Bitty was mumbling something under his breath. “Apples, flour, sugar...” he mumbled. Jack couldn’t catch much past that, but it was clear that he was reciting a recipe.

            Jack would be lying if he said it wasn’t adorable.

            “I can’t concentrate with you lookin’ at me like that,” Bitty said.

            Jack blinked as his attention was redirected from staring. “Sorry,” he said, “I’ll, uh.” He pointed to the wall behind him and turned to face it. “Sorry.”

            “You’re so _Canadian_ ,” Bitty said. Jack could swear he must have been smirking.

            They were both quiet for a bit. Jack got a little antsy not being able to see what Bitty was doing. It finally got to be enough that Jack chanced turning around. “Are you okay?” He asked.

            Bitty jumped as Jack turned. His eyes had been focused on Jack, but his fingers tensed on the gun, which was still pointed at the target. The gun went off, leaving a black smear on the metal behind the target. Bitty was only shaking a little bit. “Oh,” Bitty said.

            “You did it!” Jack enthused, “Good job, Bits.” Jack walked over and clapped a hand on Bitty’s shoulder.

            Bitty smiled. “Thanks,” he said, “It was kind of an accident. But I didn’t feel so awful after it happened like I might have without your help.”

            Jack smiled. “How would you feel about trying out some practice with a living enemy?”

            Bitty paled. “Oh gosh. I don’t think I—“

            “I was kidding, Bits. I’ll save that for next week.”

            Bitty smiled sheepishly. “Well, alright.” He sighed, set the gun down on the coffee table, and walked over to the window to the right of the couch. “It’s a beautiful view,” he said.

            Jack came to stand beside him. “Yeah, it is.” The nebula’s light shone through the window, making Bitty’s eyes sparkle.

            “Y’know,” he said, “When I was a kid, I used to look up at the stars and think about just how insignificant it all was. The grass, the bullies, me. Everything means so little in the grand scheme of things. The stars don’t care about what I do, where I go, who I love. The stars just keep going. No matter what happens to any of us, the stars, the universe, will keep existing. It will keep existing long past the extinction of life in the Milky Way. So I figured I should just do what I’m gonna do and not worry too much about it. The stars will still be there in the morning.”

            Jack stared at Bitty, who was still staring into space. He had never considered that sort of thing before. He had worried for so long that he was doing everything wrong, that he was existing wrong, that he often had just resigned himself to a constant state of worry. To be able to just exist without worrying about what anyone else was thinking was so foreign. He wondered how much pain, how much struggle there had been for Bitty to come to this belief. “What if they aren’t?” he asked.

            Bitty turned to him. “What do you mean?”

            “What if.” He paused. His brain immediately supplied to him the deaths on his hands, the very reason he was being considered for the N7 program, the sort of thing that would likely continue happening while he was such a prominent Alliance figure. “What if the stars _aren’t_ there in the morning? What if something you did caused the stars to go away? What then?”

            Bitty’s face softened. “Jack,” he said, “Stars die all the time. It’s part of the universe’s life cycle, right? Even if some stars aren’t there tomorrow, that doesn’t mean that the universe won’t keep turning.”

            Jack took a deep breath. “I know. I didn’t mean to try to poke at what you said. It’s just... hard for me to accept that sort of thing. I’ve had so much anxiety pent up in me for so long, I just don’t know how not to worry that things are wrong.”

            Bitty considered for a moment. “Well,” he said, “Even if things _are_ wrong, does that mean that you’re irredeemable? Can you not learn from your mistakes, make reparations for them? Do right by them?”

            Jack pursed his lips. “Some things can’t be made right.”

            “Not everything has to be,” Bitty said.

            Jack froze. Not everything had to be made right? What? “I...” he started. He couldn’t find the words to finish.

            Bitty turned and started walking towards the coffee table. He patted Jack on the back as he went. “You can spend some time thinking about that. I’m gonna practice with the gun a bit more. Go have a slice of pie.”

            Jack, brain still struggling, walked to the kitchen bar on autopilot. He grabbed a slice of pie and dug in. It was delicious, but Jack couldn’t help but find his attention focused elsewhere as Bitty fired the gun again.  


End file.
